


A Serious Cliché

by icaruslut



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dissociation, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Panic Attacks, Public Hand Jobs, Smut, this is total self-indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 06:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18360059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icaruslut/pseuds/icaruslut
Summary: After the raid, emotions are running high between Sweet Pea and Fangs. When they finally decide to do something about it, not everything goes to plan. Shenanigans ensue.AKA - swangs' friends like to interrupt them





	A Serious Cliché

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally meant to be separate fics but I just don't know when to stop writing. So welcome to over 6000 words of pure self-indulgence. I apologise in advance lmao

Maybe it was the adrenaline – that’s what he would probably tell himself later on. When he starts to overthink it like he does most things. What can he say? It feels like forever since the Serpents were out together, kicking the shit out of people. In this case, it was driving those Gargoyles out of that decrepit block of flats. They got caught up in it and Fangs, the god damned idiot, decided to headbutt one of them. That’s why Fangs was now sat on the kitchen sink with Sweet Pea, awkwardly stood between his legs, dabbing the cut on his temple with a whisky-soaked rag. Fangs kept jerking away and hissing – not to mention he kept biting his lip. Sweet Pea took a swig from the bottle of whisky on the counter to clear his head, before offering the bottle to Fangs who re-wet the rag and pressed it to Sweet Peas grazed cheek. He grunted in pain, bowing his head and gripping Fangs’ thigh. The thigh he didn’t even realise he’d been holding onto until Fangs gasped in surprise before he averted his gaze and took a long, slow, deliberate drink of the whisky.

Situations like this had occurred before between them. And it was always Sweet Pea who would back out at the last moment. Fangs was okay with this, really he was – it's not like he’d then go home and not know if he wanted to throw the nearest object at the wall or curl into a ball and cry. He risked a glance back at Sweet Pea who had his head cocked to one side and licked his lips, eye twitching when his whisky-laden tongue reached a small cut he hadn’t noticed earlier. Just how he hadn’t noticed that he’d all but pinned Fangs against the counter, hadn’t noticed how it made them a similar height, how the scent that was so purely Fangs wrapped itself around him, begging him to move closer, to do what he had wanted to do for so long. Sweet Pea hadn’t realised he was staring, or that Fangs was still drinking that whisky, side-eyeing him, still giving him that chance to back out. Instead, Sweet Pea grabbed the bottle of whisky from Fangs, downed a good portion of what was left of it before slamming in down on the counter. It wasn’t an aggressive act, oh no, it was years of frustration and the finality of the act. No using it as an excuse: drinking a bottle, watching a shit film and falling asleep wrapped around each other. Well, the night may still end with them wrapped around each other but only time would tell.

He growled, low and guttural in his throat, pressing closer to Fangs who was still looking at him, mouth agape and eyes wide. But Fangs was sick of waiting, sick of Sweet Pea sitting on the fence, so he reached his hand around to the base of the taller man’s neck and yanked him closer, lips finally meeting. Without being a total cliché, it was like fucking fireworks, like the end and start of the universe, like there was no other scenario other than this. It wasn’t pretty – it was all teeth and tongues, trying to get as close as possible and fighting for dominance. Their hands were roaming all over each other, nails and fingertips digging in, sure to leave a mark. It was desperate and overdue and all either of them had ever wanted – whether they admitted it or not. Fangs hands trailed down to Sweet Peas ass, into his jeans pocket and squeezed hard, causing Sweet Pea to move closer still (if that was even possible with clothes on) and grind against Fangs. He let out a huff, finally leaving Fangs’ swollen cherry lips to begin an assault on his neck instead. Hands wandered up the shirt of the trapped Serpent, fingertips ghosting over the scar neither one really wanted to acknowledge. Fangs wasn’t here to play though, so he hooked his legs around Sweets’ waist and grabbed his jaw in lustful demand.

All Sweet Pea could do was hum in pleasure as Fangs kissed his way down the tattooed side of his neck before licking a long stripe over his adam’s apple. He shivered in ecstasy. But Fangs’ definitely wasn’t going to waste an opportunity like this, so before Sweets knew what was happening, Fangs was palming him through his jeans and sucking at that spot where his shoulder and collarbone met. And when Fangs bit that spot and he saw stars, he knew there was no going back. He was completely gone – in love with his best friend and he wanted everyone to know. But he also didn’t want to cum in his pants because that isn’t how he wanted this to end. Plus, he had no laundry money. Time to distract himself.

“Hey do you remember when Jughead tried recruiting the Ghoulies that time a while back?”

“We aren’t talking about Jughead right now.” To prove his point, Fangs not-so-lightly scratched his nails down Sweet Pea’s arm.

“That wasn’t the point of this conversation.” Sweet Pea hissed, digging his fingers into Fangs’ waist in retaliation. Fangs, annoyed at having to stop what he was doing once more, cocked his head in simple questioning. “Well I never told you how hot you were, when you were about to give that Ghoulie junkie a black eye. But then I’ve never been as terrified as I was when I saw you dangling from that balcony – apart from when you got shot, of course. And then I wanted nothing more than to whisk you away to take care of you.” Fangs stopped, hot breath tickling Sweet Peas neck.

“Save the pillow talk for later.” He shifted his weight forwards, forcing Sweet Pea to scoop him in his arms. Fangs’ hands trailed into Sweet Peas long, soft hair and tangled his fingers there, gently pulling his head back to look up at _him_ , for once. Fangs ground down against Sweets’ crotch, smug when it made him stumble backwards, propelled by Fangs’ weight wrapped around him. His back of his legs hit the sofa in the too-small trailer they shared. It was warmer than a tent and, provided all went well, it was about to get much, much hotter.

Sweet Pea unceremoniously collapsed onto the sofa and Fangs wasted no time in resuming the make out session, licking along Sweets’ lip, begging to be let in. Sweet Pea willingly obliged. The kiss deepened and all Sweet Pea could keep thinking was _oh fuck, there’s no going back now_ \- not that he wanted to. All Fangs could think was _fucking finally but this boy needs to hurry his ass up_. Sweet Pea’s hands were steadfast: one cradling the back of Fangs’ neck, the other holding his waist. Fangs’ hands were wildly roaming everywhere he could reach; currently they were fumbling with Sweets’ belt buckle. Fangs was getting desperate whilst Sweets was more than happy to take his sweet time. The teasing was driving Fangs wild and he was sure he looked like a hot mess – rumpled hair and clothes, full body blush, pupils blown wide not to mention he straddling his best friend and all but rutting against his jean-clad legs. Sweet Pea wasn’t faring much better, but he didn’t want to hurt Fangs or rush something as significant as this next step. That would be all well and good if they were normal boys with normal lives instead of being two of the only OG members of the Serpents and therefore had to deal with may more shit than they wanted to.

That’s why, when they heard footsteps outside and the door handle turning, they were five feet apart quicker than you could sing _cause they’re not gay_. No time to smooth their clothes or hide their swollen lips. “Sweet Pea? You here? I just wanted to talk about the other week...” She walked through the door and looked between the two boys, looking like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Sorry Fangs, I- uh, didn’t realise you were here... didn’t see your bike.” She decided to ignore that she’d obviously interrupted something; it made what she came here to say even more important.

“Don’t mind me Toni, was only trying to help this idiot when he threw a hissy fit.” He hoped the dimly lit trailer and scattered sofa cushions would hide the evidence of what was really going on.

“Can I talk to you in private Sweet Pea?” She held the door in her hand, indicating she wanted to speak to him outside.

“Sure... any chance you fancy fixing some food tonight Fogarty? I’m sure Topaz has the Poisons to get back to after out little chat.” Fangs didn’t like the edge Sweet Pea’s voice had taken so while the kettle was on the stove (on a lower heat to give him more time), Fangs crept over to the window, crouching to stay hidden.

“... no, I’m fucking sick of you girls. First with Josie, but she’s a northsider so I always kind of expected it. But you Toni? Like, I know we’ve talked about it before but I just felt used. I deserve better than that, dammit!” Fangs was confused. Of course he knew about Josie, he secretly hated her for months for taking his best friend and unrequited love away from him. So why was he talking about Toni in the same capacity. It’s not like he wasn’t aware Toni was insanely attractive, plus Serpent Legacy, but he was talking as if something had happened recently... and Toni mentioned something about the other week. The Heathers Play? Or when Cheryl got the Poisons to jump them in Pop’s parking lot. Fangs had been planning on making a move that night, there had been casual touches and jokes and easy smiles between them all night. For most of the night they’d been sat on the same side of the booth, Sweets’ arm around Fangs’ shoulders and Fangs’ hand on Sweets’ thigh. Was he overthinking this? Sure, he knew Sweet Pea and Toni had hooked up in the past, but that was before she got with Cheryl...

“That’s what I came to talk about. I really care about you; I shouldn’t have used you like that. I was pissed at Cheryl and Peaches was there. She’s a lesbian so she’s over it – not that I’m expecting you to just get over it. That’s not what I’m saying it’s just, Peaches is laid back – it’s a lesbian thing.”

“Yeah well, I think we both know that you’re aware you interrupted something so I suggest you leave. Maybe this is me turning a corner, finally going after what I want. What I need. What’s good for me! You are not good for me, you were going to use me for sex! You’re just like Josie and I’m fucking done okay.” Fangs had no idea what was going on but now everything made more sense. The way Sweets was with him around the show: more touchy feely yet distant at the same time. Did that make him a rebound? Was Sweet Pea going to wake up one day and realise he made a mistake? What if another Josie came around? What if Fangs couldn’t make Sweet Pea happy the same way? He was overthinking this, wasn’t he? What if he wasn’t. Oh god that kiss might have ruined his friendship with Sweets. What now? It was becoming hard to breathe. His blood was pounding in his ears. Thoughts booming through his mind like a jack hammer: worrying about Sweets, worrying he wasn’t good enough, wondering if this was some sick joke?

He didn’t realise Toni had left. Didn’t realise that Sweet Pea was on the other side of the thin sheet metal of the trailer, pacing up and down, overthinking things himself. He wasn’t good enough for Fangs. He never was and never would be. He should just leave. It’d be easier for everyone. He didn’t want to hurt Fangs. Fangs was special. He could well be the one. But Fangs deserved to find a nice Northside boy like Keller and settle down and adopt some cute kids or find a surrogate and leave Serpent life behind. Sweet Pea didn’t deserve anything except maybe an early death in a shallow grave; he was Southside scum and no one would ever let him forget it.

The whistling of the kettle startled Sweet Pea. What was Fangs doing in there? Had he heard the conversation? Did he hate him? Oh fuck what if he had left already, sick of dealing with his fuck ups. He raced inside. “Fangs?! Fangs let me explai-“ But all Sweet Pea saw was the love of his life with sad, dead eyes staring at the steam squealing it’s escape from the hot metal. He was past having a panic attack and was in a full dissociative state. The first time this happened wasn’t long after he’d left the hospital after being shot. It’s like his mind would rather shut down than try to process what was in front of it. Sweet Pea rushed to take the kettle off the stove, the hot metal biting at his hand in his haste. The screaming died down, both in their little trailer and inside his head. He knelt in front of Fangs, looking into his eyes. He hoped the desperation in his own would register. “Please, please talk to me. I know I'm a fucking awful person but you are, or probably were, the only person to see me for me and not walk away. I know there were times when you wanted to and it was only serpent law that kept you by my side, trust me I know. I just need you to come back to me okay? We can figure things out. If you're angry, or upset or what... just tell me so I can make it right. Because let's face it, without you I'm just an angry viper with a tendency for violence. And you deserve so much better than me.”

One moment, he was not-so-comfortably knelt in front of Fangs, the next his arms were pinned above his head and Fangs was leaning over him. “Shut your god damn mouth before I shut it for you. You listen here, fucker – you are the best thing to ever have happened to me and I wake up every day with a smile on my face because of you. You’re the last thing on my mind at night and the first thing on my mind when I wake up. I’m as screwed up as you so I guess that makes us a perfect match.” They were both painfully aware of the fact that Sweet Pea was more than capable of overpowering Fangs. They were also aware that Sweet Pea meant every word he said. Now wasn’t the time to take things all the way. But a bit of _comforting_ could go a long way... at least that was Fangs’ train of thought. Sweet Pea looked inquisitive and also incredibly turned on – information Fangs would be sure to keep tucked away in the part of his brain reserved for Sweets and Sweets only. Fangs tentatively rolled his hips against Sweet Pea, causing his eyes to roll back in his head. “You gonna be good for me, huh? Not gonna try and get free? Or better yet, should we use this?” He grinned, picking up Sweet Pea’s discarded belt. The pitiful whine and biting of his lower lip was all the bravado Sweets could muster, surprising even himself. Carefully, Fangs used the leather belt to secure Sweets’ wrists together. At least that freed his hands up for other things. To restrict Sweets’ movement further, Fangs pulled his vest up and over his head, so he couldn’t much move his arms. The ache soon set in but it only heightened his arousal. He would never let anyone else do this. But Fangs? Oh god, Fangs could cut him up all nice and pretty and he’d still probably thank the guy.

Fangs was what you would consider a vers – he could give and take it in equal vivacity. He loved being in charge but being dominated was fun too. And Sweets was... so beautiful. Even if he liked to hide his insecurities with over-the-top confidence. Fangs couldn’t help himself as he ran his hands up and down the large body beneath him, the strength there was overwhelming yet reassuring; the various scars telling a story so like Fangs’ own. They were so similar yet so different, like a funhouse mirror – the same but something about them changed. He kissed every single scar, the bone-white flecks standing out against Sweet Pea’s skin like stars. The bruises he kissed too, even when they elicited a hissed response from Sweets – that earned him a bite as a gentle reminder. Pants were unbuckled and being slid down Sweet Pea’s muscular thighs when Fangs thought he heard something. Like the handle of the trailer door rattling. He pressed a finger to his lips, telling Sweet Pea, who had been mumbling something about hurrying up and fucking him already, to be quiet.

Baseball bat, still splattered with Gargoyle blood, in one hand, Fangs stood in a defensive stance by the door. The door creaked open, revealing a beanie-clad head and a blonde ponytail – Jughead and Betty. “Nope. Not tonight, fuck off. Fuck ooooffffff.” Fangs all but shouted, throwing the baseball bat on the floor. “You’re lucky I didn’t hit you, what the hell are you doing breaking into my trailer. Like, kudos to the mad hairpin skills Betty, you’ll have to teach me that neat little trick but I meant what I said – fuck off. Right now.” Fangs was rambling, hoping to keep their eyes on him instead of Sweet Pea half hidden by the sofa.

“Hey Pea, you okay down there?” Dammit Betty.

“Yep, totally fine. Just couldn’t be bothered getting up to greet you fuckers. Perfectly happy on the floor here, tell ‘em Fangs.” He nodded his head enthusiastically – maybe a little too much for it to be anything but suspicious.

“Anywho... we just wanted to check up on you guys-”

“So you broke in?” Fangs countered, cutting Jughead off mid-sentence.

“-after the who debacle earlier and we heard noises. Didn’t see Fangs’ bike so we assumed you might have been out.”

“Bullshit. What kind of thief locks the door behind them.” Sweets chimed in, helpfully.

“The bedroom window was open.”

“You know what, I don’t care. I don’t care if you were going to use this place for some sort of sexy tryst- wait, no I would care about that, please don’t do that unless you leave food money and clean up after yourselves. But it’s been a long day, as you can see Pea has given up on life and has resigned himself to lying on the floor and now, I must bid you adieu.” Through his short monologue, he had managed to shuffle Betty and Jughead out of the trailer, slamming the door shut with a flourish of his arm and deadbolting it for good measure. He leant against the door, head heavy against it. Not even 30 seconds later, his phone beeped. A text from Betty: _use_ _protection_ 😉

He stalked back over to where Pea was lay, throwing his phone on the table. “Our friends are assholes.” He grumbled, sliding to the floor to an exasperated-looking Sweet Pea who could only huff in response; his belt was digging into his wrists and the burn in his arms and shoulders, whilst making him really hard, meant he knew he’d be in agony tomorrow. Fangs smirked, finally pulling down Sweet Peas jeans and boxers, licking his lips at the painfully swollen erection. Sweet Pea had been teased to the extreme: being interrupted the first time was easy to pass off; being interrupted a second time, whilst being tied up and stuck on the floor and Betty clearly knowing what was going on... man, that was hot. And Fangs was currently taking the evidence into his adept hands, grip just right, thumb swiping precum from the tip... head lowering to repeat the motion with his tongue. Lips around him, hollowed cheeks and gentle movements of his hands. Let their asshole friends interrupt them, let them see how good Fangs could blow him, let them see what a good slut he could be for him, all tied up and flustered. When Fangs started bobbing his head, taking him in deep, while his hands kneaded at his balls and perineum, Sweet Pea needed to find something to hold onto – the only thing near enough was a metal fold-out chair that they used to keep outside (until the wind caught it and flung it at their beloved bikes). Then Fangs moved his other hand to Sweet Pea’s hip to steady himself, digging in so hard it was sure the mark – they both needed a reminder that this was real. Sweet Pea was getting close, panting and bucking his hips to match the rhythm Fangs had set, surprised that Fangs wasn’t reprimanding him for it but trying to tone it down nevertheless – he didn’t want to hurt or disrespect Fangs. He focused instead on the cool metal in his hands, eyes screwed shut and entire body tensing as Fangs brought him over the edge, living up to his name with a not-so-gentle scrape of his teeth.

He was surprised and confused, in his post-orgasm stupor, when Fangs started laughing, joyful and bright; crawled up Sweet Pea’s body to plant a wet kiss to his mouth so he could taste himself on Fangs’ tongue. He was still chuckling when he broke off the kiss to return Sweet Pea’s vest to his body and untie the belt. Sweet Pea sat up, rubbing at his wrists and shrugging the ache from his shoulders. He still had no idea what was so funny to Fangs... until he turned around. The poor garden chair had one leg horribly bent out of shape, likely to be wobbly at best, collapse under someone at worst. He ducked his head to hide his blush, instead choosing to catalogue the various marks Fangs had created on his body and wondering if he could pass them off as from the fight. Not that he was ashamed of what had just transpired, it was quite the opposite really and obviously their asshole friends would be talking about them on their shitty group chats by now but... he wanted Fangs to himself for a bit longer. Plus he had hoped to keep up his bad boy demeanour for a little longer, at least.

“Come on Sweets, let’s go to bed.” Fangs extended his hand to help Sweet Pea up, the latter leaving his jeans discarded on the floor but sleepily pulling his boxers up as he stood. They still hadn’t had any food but neither of them felt particularly hungry – just tired. It was well past midnight and they had school the next day. Sweet Pea was in no position to argue and he was asleep before his head had even hit the pillow, smile firmly on his lips. He didn’t get the chance to tell Fangs how he felt that night, but then again he never really needed to. “I love you too...” Fangs whispered to him as he tucked him in bed and closed the window. He stripped off to his boxers and curled around Sweet Pea, big-spoon style, before he too fell asleep with a smile.

_____________________

At some point during the night, they rolled over so Fangs was on his back, Sweet Pea’s head on his chest and legs entangled. That’s how they awoke, bleary-eyed and unsure if the night before was a dream. Then came Sweet Pea’s painful realisation that yes, the ache in his shoulders was real and the mirror, once cleared of its post-shower haze, couldn’t be lying about those very apparent hickeys to his neck and chest... or the bruising on his hip. He felt a sense of pride that his... Friend? Boyfriend? Lover? Soulmate?... was so skilled that he would happily stay in their little trailer for months on end if it meant he could feel this happy and content every morning – screw cabin fever, he’d be clamouring to get home every night for this kind of treatment from Fangs... plus he couldn’t wait to return the favour. “Sweets? You okay in there? We need to be heading off soon is all.” _Shit_. They couldn’t really afford to be late, no matter how much he wanted to stay home with Fangs.

He rushed out of the tiny trailer bathroom and into the bedroom, grabbing his jeans from the floor along the way. T shirt, flannel, Serpent Jacket. He hung his towel on the back of now-crooked chair to dry and pulled on his boots. All the while, his shoulders screaming at him. “Fangs, can you drive us there today... my shoulders hurt like a bitch.” A noise that vaguely sounded like a yes as Fangs shouted from the bathroom, in the middle of brushing his teeth. They rushed out of the door, keys thrown to Fangs and granola bars (courtesy of Betty) thrown in bags as the jumped on the bike, hastily peeling out of the trailer park. Fangs had ridden on the back of Sweet Pea’s bike plenty of times, but Sweet Pea on the back of the bike, arms around Fangs’ waist instead of on the back of the seat... this was new. Exciting and scary and new. And also to keep Sweet Pea’s heavier weight more evenly spread because he was in serious need of a new tyres – gotta make smart decisions when you’re broke.

____________________

Sweet Pea’s first few hours were uneventful; no one had mentioned anything about the night before. What he didn’t realise was that Fangs had had sent a message to Betty while Sweet Pea was in the shower, asking her _politely_ to refrain from spilling the beans, lest she wanted everyone to know about the box she secretly kept at his and Pea’s trailer... he didn’t want to know what was in there but it was probably something kinky. That’s what they were there for last night. It was in a cupboard on the other side of the trailer to the bedroom – not far, but far enough that they could sneak in and out without either he or Pea waking up. Normally, Betty at least gave him the heads up she was coming to retrieve or replace something from _the_ _box_ so he could leave his key out for her. No need for that anymore considering she can pick locks – maybe he should just give her a key to stop it being so creepy. Didn’t stop Betty looking rapidly between Sweet Pea and Fangs once they were all together in the student lounge – Sweet Pea on a sofa and Fangs awkwardly standing next to him. Despite all the tension between them all, the student lounge was still the one place they could all be together with no pretences.

So when Cheryl swanned in, it wasn’t very suspicious – of course Toni looked a little shocked but that was to be expected. “If everyone could sit down, this is important.” Fangs barely had time to react before Sweet Pea pulled him into his lap on instinct, staring at each other intensely.

“Sweet Pea doesn’t really count as a seat, Fangs.” Jughead’s monotonous voice startled them into looking shocked, laughing it off as Fangs shifted so he was sat on the arm of the sofa instead; Sweet Pea flipping Jughead off.

“Anyway, before that incredibly gay interruption-”

“Fuck you, Red. And while I’m already talking, Fuck you too Jughead, I’m incredible comfy to sit on.”

“For fuck’s sake, I came in here to profess my love to Toni and you are ruining it.” She pointed accusatorily at Sweet Pea.

“What?” Toni asked, weakly.

“Toni, my love. I’ve been such a fool. I’ve been controlling and jealous and I wanted to... apologise.” Fangs didn’t think the pause did anything for Cheryl’s sincerity but that was none of his business. _Sips_ _drink_. “It took me a while to get over the Peaches thing but I know that was my fault to begin with. I created the Poisons _for_ _you_. Because I love you. Please come back home. We can talk it out and I promise to listen and compromise if you want?” Admittedly, none of them had ever heard Cheryl be this open and honest, especially in front of other people, but she would do anything for Toni.

Toni, meanwhile, was awkwardly looking at Sweet Pea. “Oh him? That wasn’t even anything to get over. We all know Sweet Pea was just trying to get over Josie and ignore his feelings for Fangs. So, TT, if you’re willing to talk?” Toni took Cheryl’s outstretched hand, linking their fingers as they walked away. Fangs and Sweet Pea were open-mouthed, red-faced and completely avoiding looking at each other.

“You?! You were the mystery third in Toni’s failed ménage à trois?” Veronica looked shocked, Betty and Jughead looked smug, the sleuths having kept that information to themselves since they found out mere hours after the fact.

“So what if I was. It’s no secret I was bummed about Josie.” Sweet Pea said gruffly, standing up from the sofa so fast that Fangs barely had chance to catch his balance. “And why are you all so convinced I’m gay? I was literally about to fuck one of the hottest girls around here.” Okay, that one hurt: it hurt Sweets to say and Fangs to hear.

“Well that’s just bi erasure surely.” Reggie said from where he leant against the vending machine, surprising all of them.

Sweet Pea stormed over to him, grabbing him by his collar. “Shut the fuck up before I shut you up.” Fangs had to swallow his pride to grab Sweet Pea by the back of his jacket, the only one strong and significant enough to make Sweet Pea take notice.

“Such queer words coming from your supposedly-straight mouth, huh?” Reggie mused.

Sweet Pea spun on his heel. “Keys. Now.” Fangs sheepishly handed them over. Hopefully he could get a ride home from someone. Stalking out of the room, he turned once more. “I’ll be back to pick you up.” Then he was gone.

“Aww, so cute. When are you guys finally going to make it official?” Before anyone could react, Fangs had turned and punched Reggie square in the mouth.

“Ronnie, control your fucking dog before I break his fucking jaw.” Then Fangs was out of the door and after Sweets. It wasn’t long before he caught him up; Sweet Pea might have long legs but Fangs literally sprinted to catch up to him. They were next to a supply closet and Fangs wasn’t about to let Sweet Pea run off – he was prone to riding recklessly when he was pissed and it worried Fangs. So, before realising how utterly _cliché_ the whole things was, he pulled him through the door, locking it behind him and standing guard.

“Fangs what the _fuck_. Let me go, I can’t stand to be around them right now.”

“ _I’m_ not them. And _I’m_ not about to let you run off and get yourself into an accident because you’re not thinking straight-” He stopped. “Poor choice of words but you get my point! So fuck me if I’m wrong but-”

“You’re wrong. I don’t care what you’re about to say but you’re completely wrong.” Sweet Pea all but launched himself at Fangs, pinning him against the locked door, the force rattling the shelves lining the walls. He put one hand by Fangs’ head, leaning close and catching his earlobe with his teeth. Fangs, for once, don’t know what to do with his hands until Sweets began shrugging off his Serpent Jacket and using his free hand to try and slide Fangs’ jacket off too; Fangs took over the undressing part, completely in a stupor with the complete 180° in attitude. He started to fumble with Sweets’ belt when his hand was swatted away – at this point they were naked from the waist up, Sweet Pea on Fangs’ neck and chest like someone in a desert... and Fangs’ body was an oasis.

“I bet you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. I know I play it off and well, I don’t really want yet another label but, so many times I’ve just wanted you. So many times, I had to stop myself from just kissing you then and there. You make me feel alive Fangs, you make me feel wanted and worthy of love. No one has ever made me feel that way. No one. And I want to let you know just how appreciated you are. Maybe not here, but at some point, in the near future, I want you... and I hope you want me too.” Fangs was a puddle; honestly, he’d never been so close to crying yet so horny before. Part of him just wanted Sweet Pea to fuck him then and there, in that dingy supply closet; a bigger part of him wanted to wait and make it special. Sweet Pea deserved the best and, he supposed he did too. Candles, rose petals and something a bit nicer than their cheap whisky... the whole nine yards.

Sweet Pea’s hands found their way into Fangs’ pants and the latter desperately wiggled out of them – wiggled being the only word to use ass Sweets was still pressed up against him, the friction of him rocking his hips replaced by the gentle stroking of his rough hands. “Josie had no idea that it was you I dreamt of, you that I jerked off to, you that I was imagining blowing me. I mean, she suspected that I wasn’t totally _straight_ , but c’mon, with a best friend as fucking hot as you, could she blame me?” Pea’s low, gravelly words reverberating through his body was really doing something for Fangs, so much so he couldn’t even respond. Could tell him that Sweet Pea was the first guy he’d ever dreamt about, how he thought about fucked him and being fucked by him all the time, even in really inappropriate situations. How even though Kevin was really nice and all, he’d much rather have Sweets by his side. All Fangs could manage to say was a pitifully mewling “ _Mine_.”

“ _Fuck_ , I can't wait to get you home so I can do this there as well. Maybe we’ll see how you like being tied up. My shoulders’ still hurting like a bitch and I’ve had to hide my wrists from everyone today... look what you did.” I playfulness to his voice as he held up a wrist to Fangs’ face who kissed it with a bright smile on his face. His rhythm was speeding up and Fangs had to dig his fingers into Sweet Pea’s bicep as he rutted against his hand. Sweet Pea’s other hand was laced through Fangs’ hair, stroking and occasionally pulling. He hummed contentedly in his ear: “ _You gonna come for me Fangs? Gonna be as good for me as I was for you last night?_ ” He kissed a trail from his ear to where his neck met his shoulder, looking to see if it did as much for Fangs and it did for him. He grazed his teeth over the spot, testing the reaction, the moan it caused, muffled by Fangs’ burying his face against Sweets’ chest, confirmed it. He ran his tongue over the same spot, kissing and sucking until Fangs’ covered his own mouth with his hands to keep himself quiet. Then, as Fangs held his breath, a sign Sweet Pea assumed meant he was close, he bit down on that spot, sensitive spot and Fangs groaned his name in a sultry voice he prayed he’d hear more of. He let Fangs rock his hips against his hand, riding out the aftershocks, not caring about the cum that was not only covering his hand but also his chest. Fangs, like the Greek statue he is, looked absolutely perfect as ever. Immaculate, stunning, skin flushed and glowing from within. See, Sweet Pea could be good with words... for the right person.

They got cleaned up with some tissue from the supply cupboard, getting redressed in silence but stealing so many kisses along the way: forehead kisses, cheek kisses, nose, mouth, neck, hands. Not to mention the bruises and scars they both had. When they were at least sort of presentable, they slipped out of the supply closet. Sweet Pea didn’t really care who knew now – he wanted to scream it from every rooftop: Look at my gorgeous best friend and lover! He’s better than all of you in every single way and he’s all mine! Fangs, bless him, had suddenly gone shy, sheepishly hiding behind Sweet Pea’s towering frame. He wasn’t ashamed but he was also hyper-aware of the fact that he’d just gotten off and it was probably written all over his face. The closer to the student lounge they got, the more Fangs’ confidence returned. So much so that he stopped Pea before they rounded the corner and grabbed his hand, tilting his head in questioning. Sweet Pea nodded and laced their fingers together, planting a kiss to the side of Fangs’ head. In they strode to the student lounge, much happier than when they had left.

“Ha! You fuckers owe me $20 now pay up!” Betty proclaimed upon seeing them enter the room.

“You placed bets?”

“Yep. I said you’d be together by the time you came back, Jughead said you’d try to date in secret and Ronnie said that you’d be together by the end of the month.

“Reggie said that you’d be getting off somewhere in the school and were just casually hooking up but he left... probably to try and bust you to be honest.” Jughead added. Fangs looked away, the blush returning to his face.

“Wait, you did hook up?! Don’t tell Reggie, I bet him $40 he was wrong.” Betty’s jaw was pretty much on the floor right as Reggie returned.

“Don’t tell Reggie what? If it’s about me winning our little bet... Ronnie, Jughead, you might as well give the money straight to me. They were in the supply closet, sounded really aggressive so I left them too it... didn’t want a matching set.” Only then did Sweet Pea notice the rapidly-forming black eye Reggie was sporting.

“Anything for my mans.” Fangs sassed with a faux confidence he definitely wasn’t feeling. Sweet Pea's heart swelling with pride... and not just his heart.

“So you gay or bi or what? Considering you _literally_ came out of the closet after your little sexcapades.” Toni asked, now standing in the doorway, Cheryl wrapped around her. They walked closer to the sofa Jughead and Betty were sitting on.

“Well I’m not _gay_ -”

“Sweets, I literally walked in on you guys in the middle of a makeout session last night.”

“Hey, us too!” Betty revealed, receiving a high five from Toni. Very rare indeed. “Pretty sure Sweet Pea was tied up or something because he didn’t get up from where he was lay in front of the sofa.”

It was Sweet Pea’s turn to blush and refuse to meet anyone’s eyes. He cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders as he grinned - “As I was saying, it doesn't matter what I am or what you call me. All that matters is that you all know that Fangs is mine and all of you should at least text us before you show up. Otherwise what you witness will not only be so hot it puts all your sex lives to shame but will probably result in something being thrown at your head.”

“Oh thank god, the sexual tension was killing us!” Cheryl tittered. “Also, we came back to say we were having a party at _our_ place, tonight, to celebrate things being back on and, to mend some burnt bridges, we’d like for you all to be there. Toodles!”

Sweet Pea leant down to whisper into Fangs' ear: “How mad do you think Cheryl would be if we fucked in her bed?”

Fangs smirked, leaning into Sweet Pea. “Fucking livid probably... why don’t we find out.”


End file.
